The Spirits of Disenchantment
by falsealarm22
Summary: Jack Frost is coming to terms with watching his believers grow up. With spirits even more threatening than the long-gone Pitch attacking adolescents the world over, the title of Guardian has become a larger burden than ever: now Jack has to train a newly-turned Guardian to find her center - but to do that, he might just have to do some growing up, himself.
1. The Guardian Code

**chapter 1: the guardian code**

"No, wait! Stop, Jamie!"

My shouts drown in the chants of a mob of teenagers, surrounding two particular boys in the middle.

Except, you can't quite call Jamie a boy anymore. It's been a decade since Pitch's defeat. Jamie's grown nearly to my height, brown hair and eyes kind of reminding me of my own, back before I was chosen. But he's gotten a lot more buff than me, thanks to his joining the football team.

And obviously, he's learned how to throw a punch.

"Jamie, can't you hear me? Listen to me, it's Jack!" I try holding him down, but it's my old life all over again. My hands pass right through his shoulders, showing no signs of contact but thin wisps of mist, gone as quick as a breath in the winter cold. I get the urge to cry out, but then, there'd be no one to hear that either.

Jamie's opponent is a head taller than him, but thin, with dirty blond hair obscuring the nervous glint behind his glasses. From what I can gather from the taunts of the crowding school kids, Jamie got into a fight with this guy over some girl from their English class.

A few years ago, I might've dreamed of attending – and likely crashing – Jamie's wedding to a girl with a heart as bright as his. I want to believe Jamie was protecting this one from some sort of bully.

But the reality of things hits hard: Jamie _is_ the bully, beating up the friend of a girl he made unwanted advances on. And said friend, unfortunately, is not as strong as he is angry.

The smell of blood, drawn by Jamie's punch across the other guy's cheek, spoils what's supposed to be the fresh spring air, mixing with the stink of perspiring high school kids. It's hot this time of year, right before summer, but I'm not sweating. I haven't for three hundred years, really.

One last chance. I twirl my staff and conjure snow sparks at his face, but the blue light isn't igniting the fun in him that it used to. That only works for people with hearts open enough to accept it.

Then Jamie pins the other boy to the floor. Once, twice, thrice, his fist barrages the poor kid's jaw. That's it, there's no way I'm taking this anymore. North is going to kill me for this, but I have no choice.

I touch the staff to the pavement with a grunt – I never thought I'd have to do this to Jamie, but life has a way of screwing things over. A streak of frost slithers from the bottom of my staff and down the road up Jamie's bulky legs, freezing him in place. Luckily, the other guy's smart enough to take the chance to run for it. As soon as he does, I lift the staff and Jamie thaws out.

But the damage is done.

The kids in the crowd back up. I know what they're thinking: _ice randomly appearing on a parking lot right before summer? What the hell?_

Yeah, I've never liked this time of year. Too many rules.

The crowd scatters with a few snide remarks at Jamie, and then he walks away.

I float beside the now-seventeen-year-old, following him to wherever he's going. It scares me how numb I've gotten to his attitude. A few years ago, I didn't think this kid could hurt a fly.

"What the hell was that?" he mumbles to himself.

"Me," I say. "Jack Frost. Who else?"

Jamie stops. I swear he faces the exact spot I'm standing in, but his eyes tell me he sees nothing but space. He walks on.

When did this happen? I can't bear to face this kid any longer. I turn away and ride a weak wind around the town.

I guess it started when he hit puberty. That's when all hell broke loose. He moved to a new school different school, started making new friends. Started caring about popularity and reputations, then, soon enough, stopped caring about anything else. It's what happens to too many children in this world – parents and other kids tell them their childhood fantasies are nothing but, then they stop believing themselves. And that's that.

I land on a roof and look around. This was where Jamie and everyone gave the Guardians the power to defeat Pitch. This was where dragons made of sand walked the streets, where elves and Yetis and giant eggs beat the crap out of shadow horses, where a group of kids defeated fear itself. Where I found my center.

I look down. I guess it was kind of my fault, too. After that day, my duties as a true Guardian separated me from Jamie. I made it a point to visit every Easter, but every other day, I travelled the world and made new believers, throwing snowballs at their smiling faces and letting the occasional lucky kid do the sled routine.

Huh, I guess those first few believers are probably all grown up now, too. Even though I have new ones lighting up on the globe every day, the thought that I lost some puts this weird distance between me and everything. Maybe I stopped having as much fun when I realized that they'd forget me someday. I wonder how the Guardians put up with this feeling all their lives.

Then I remember the talk.

I groan and press the heels of my hands to my temples. Two years ago, on Christmas Day, North sat me down for a long, painful discussion on rule number five of the Guardian Code. It's become a sore point for all of us that I still haven't completely accepted that stupid last rule. And just minutes ago, I broke the fourth rule, which means North'll be coming any minute now to bring me back to the North Pole for another exciting harangue. Yeah, that's 'cause after we beat Pitch, the Man in the Moon gave North the responsibility of teaching me the ways of a Guardian, which, as it turns out, is not as easy as I thought it'd be.

I glance up at the sky, the faded outline of the moon barely visible this time of day. I'd have to have a talk with the Man himself about the Code someday. I mean, there must be something wrong with him if he expects me, the Guardian of fun and freedom, to suddenly start following harsh rules when I had none to live by for hundreds of years. Maybe I'd fly up there and–

Something dark flicks across the moon, gone so quick I'm not sure it was ever there. It was just a shadow, but it seemed so alive that even I have to shiver a little.

I fly down and pace a bit. I'm probably just imagining things. But then I hear a rumbling in the earth and I ready my staff. I spin around to hit the sudden presence behind me.

"Bloody hell, Jack!" Bunnymund curses, rubbing his half-frozen ear. "Yeah, it's nice to see you, too, mate." There's my best friend-slash-rival, as surly and narrow-eyed as ever.

"Bunny! Whoa, sorry about that," I say, tapping him with the staff again to thaw him out. "I'm a bit jittery today." I look up at the moon, but the shadow is nowhere to be seen.

"No shit," he says, fidgeting with his boomerang.

"I haven't seen you in forever," I say, only registering now how long it's been. "But you gotta remember Burgess. This is where-"

"Yeah, yeah, 'course I remember," he says, tapping the ground with his lucky rabbit foot twice and grabbing my arm. "But we have no time for the nostalgic crap, so c'mon."

"Wait, wha-"

My question gets left behind on the surface as he drags me down the proverbial rabbit hole. We bounce dizzyingly fast, just like the old days, through the largest tunnel in the world. Streaks of earthy green fly past me, and it's only a few minutes before we emerge at the Pole, right at the entrance of North's workshop.

I have to fight the urge to throw up, taking refuge in the sudden cold around us. Thank God for sweet winter.

"Sorry, mate. We're in a rush. If you've gotta chunder, face that way, then let's get inside," Bunnymund says, but I can tell he's not really sorry. Our friendly rivalry hasn't died down in the least over the years.

"I'm fine, Bunny. Wait, why did you bring me here? I know North's gonna lecture me again, but I didn't know you replaced the Yetis in the Jack-delivery service," I say, walking in.

"Very funny, mate. Be thankful I didn't stuff you in a bag. And no, this isn't about your insistent delinquency," he says as we cross the magical halls of Elves and toys and Yetis. "It's something much more serious."

I freeze a few Elves and thaw them out again as we pass; it's a bad habit I have when I'm nervous. "Did I do anything really bad?" I ask, lowering my voice to a whisper, "anything to get me Disenchanted?"

"No, nothing that bad," Bunny says. "You know what, mate, why don't you let the others explain?"

He pushes open the broad doors of the meeting hall, the big gold globe greeting me with millions of tiny lights. Strangely, some of the lights seem to be flickering, which I don't remember from before. North, Tooth and Sandy stand around it, eyeing me with big smiles.

North hurtles into me and lifts me four feet off the ground, which I've come to learn is his idea of hugging.

"Jack!" he greets, his phlegmy accent turning my name into _Jeck_. "Good to see you again!"

"You too, North," I say, pushing my staff against the wall to give me leverage to fly out of his merciless grip.

"I've missed you, Jack!" says Tooth, flying up to meet me for a much lighter hug, Baby Tooth pecking my shoulder in greeting.

"We saw each other last month, Tooth," I say. "Trouble with the frozen molar?" Even she had to admit that was a brilliant prank. She hits me lightly in the shoulder as I float down to meet Sandy, who conjures a smiling snowman above his head. Is that how he sees me? I blame those stupid movies.

"All right, now that all our greetings are settled, we have some important news for you, Jack," says Bunnymund, pointing his boomerang at me.

"That's right," agrees North. "Man in Moon has assigned you an apprentice!"

The word feels like an anvil dropping on my head. "A what?"

"Apprentice," North repeats. "Manny showed us a sign of a human girl who is to become a Guardian, and he clearly showed us that _you_, Jack, are to be her teacher."

"Hold on," I say, at a loss. "Why is there a new Guardian? Is Pitch back? Do we need to fight?"

"No, no," Tooth says. "A few hours ago, the Man in the Moon called us all here to witness this."

As soon as she says it, the gilded window in the corner slides open, revealing the moon. The silvery beam of light raises a panel in the floor, where the stone statue of a girl stands. She holds a single snowflake in her open hand.

"This is the same way we found out that you were to be a Guardian. Obviously, Manny has chosen this girl. But she holds a snowflake, which obviously means that you are to train her!" North intones, a bit too giddy.

"We think the Man in the Moon chose you because you are closest to her in age," says Tooth.

"I'm three hundred twenty-seven! How is that close to any human's age?" I ask. The responsibility of being a teacher is beginning to sink in, and it's my first reflex to dodge any duties. But there are still so many questions.

A big _1469_ of sand forms above Sandy's head as he points at himself. Huh, I guess three hundred is relatively young.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why is there a new Guardian?" I ask.

Their faces darken.

"We face a new threat, Jack," says North, pointing to the pulsing lights.

I take a closer look at the model of the world. The lights look like they're flickering, but-

Oh crap. There are shadows passing over them – come and gone quickly, but still visible. Just like on the moon a while ago. Already, some of the flickering lights are dimming.

"What the hell is that," I ask, trying not to sound scared.

"Jack." North's tone makes me look at him, his grim face matched by those of the others. "You have noticed that some of the kids are... No longer believing?" He chooses his words carefully.

"Yeah," I say. "Look North, I don't wanna hear this talk again. I understand that-"

"No, Jack," Tooth interjects. "This isn't the same. It's not natural. This is the work of Spirits of Disenchantment."

The term makes me pull back a step. I accidentally freeze an elf behind me and nearly trip over it. "Spirit of Disenchantment? Isn't that what you guys said Pitch was?"

"Yeah, mate," Bunny says. "If us Guardians represent all the good parts of childhood, those guys are the manifestations of all the cruddy parts. The parts that make a kid stop believing."

"But you guys told me that was natural to stop believing eventually!" I say, rubbing my head. This is reminding me of the talk.

"It _is _natural for them to stop. But what's going on now is the Spirits are more active than before. They're taking some kids too early, and we don't know why. All we know is that we have to stop them. Their numbers are growing by the day," Tooth explains, her hands and head moving as frantically as her wings.

"In other words, kid, this is like Pitch multiplied by a million. This is the beginning of a war," Bunny says, throwing his boomerang at me. I catch it on the hook of my staff and toss it back.

The memory of Fearlings clogging the sky sends a stab of fear up my spine. But that's what they thrive on.

"Let me fight. You guys saw what I could do ten years ago, and I've gotten stronger," I say. A part of me remembers how incredible it felt to freeze all those Fearlings to oblivion.

"No," says North, stepping in front of me. The guy's huge. "We know you are powerful, Jack, but the Man assigned you to be a teacher. Not a fighter."

"What? You expect me to go tutor some stranger while all the kids of the world are in danger? You gotta be kidding."

"Jack, you have to understand. Obviously the Man has a plan, and it involves a new Guardian. She must hold the key to defeating that threat, just like how you were the key to beating Pitch last time," Tooth says.

"Yeah, and if we're facing a million Fearlings or something, we're gonna need all the help we can get," Bunny says.

I don't like this, but I can't fight it. The Man in the Moon hasn't been wrong before. But I still wonder: why me?

"Why should I be the mentor? I'm barely a Guardian myself," I say.

"Ten years is a long time, Jack. I'm sure you know the Code well enough," says Tooth.

"I broke the fourth rule today. I know you guys know. I was wondering when North was gonna bring it up," I say.

See, the Guardian Code consists of the most basic rules that we Guardians have to follow. _For the spirit of childhood, for the hope of the future. _And when any Guardian breaks the Code, the rest of us can feel it. I don't know how it works, but it's supposed to help us keep each other in check.

And if one of us doesn't cooperate, well, you don't wanna know.

"We know the context, Jack. It was to prevent violence," says Tooth. "We excuse you."

Sandy nods his approval.

"And it's about time you played your pranks elsewhere. The Yuletide season sucks when half the toys need to be thawed out," says North, punching me lightly on the shoulder. He's obviously thrilled he won't have to babysit me anymore, since apparently I've just graduated into senior Guardianship. He brings out his magical snow globe and throws it to me.

"Fine, just tell me what I need to do," I say. I peer into the globe: there's a group of people in black gathering to bury a coffin. Am I gonna crash a funeral?

"We don't actually really know," says Tooth. "Just show her the ropes, and never forget the Code. Rule number one: protect the children at all costs!"

Oh God. The last thing I want is another Code recitation. It's been drilled into my mind enough times.

Sandy forms number two above his head as Bunny recites: "Give no one child special treatment."

I throw the snow globe at the wall, and the vortex opens up. I've gotta get out of here. Now.

"Three: never force a child to believe!" North shouts at me as I fly up and out.

"Four: never use your powers where they would cause confusion!" Tooth calls.

My head plunges right through the swirling colors and into the new environment right before they can shout the fifth rule. And then my feet come through, too.


	2. Anina

**chapter 2: anina**

I thought I'd mastered landing out of the snow globe portal, I really did.

And so I'm very proud of myself when I land on both feet, scratch-free with staff in hand. But then, of course, a big fat book with the letter _G_ imprinted on its cover falls right on my head just as the vortex closes. It hits the ground with a _thud._

The Book of the Guardians. North read from it when I was officially inducted as a Guardian, so I guess he must've thought it necessary for me to have it with me when I found the new one. How thoughtful.

As I pick up the Book, I realize where I'm standing. It's a peaceful, quiet place, the endless grass interrupted by pockets of stone and pavement, which I realize are tombstones. Graveyards in the daytime are actually kind of relaxing. But it's really hot here – I realize that this is someplace I shouldn't normally be, according to the fourth rule of the Code. This is someplace where it doesn't snow – likely a tropical country. And that means that no one here believes in me, which for once I'm grateful for, because I don't have to hide from the kids while I'm doing official Guardian business.

Crap. Sometimes it scares me when I think like an adult.

Immediately before me is a family of mourners and a priest. From the looks of it, the funeral rites are underway: everyone's saying prayers and comforting one another. The scene triggers a faint memory from my old life.

_"Jack, pay your respects. Say a prayer and tell your Grandpa goodbye."_

_ "Goodbye, Grandpa. I love you."_

Grandpa was the one who taught me how to ice skate, I realize. He died of pneumonia during the winter of 1708, when I was thirteen. It was the first time I genuinely learned that there were situations where fun and games had no place.

When I break out of my reverie, I'm surprised to see that it's nighttime, with only the moon and a few street lamps illuminating the graveyard. There are shadows everywhere. Damn, how long was I spacing out? I leave spot where I sat, where the grass has accidentally frozen over. Oops.

Okay, time for business. The family is gone now, and only a few candles shed light on the burial site. Honestly, this is creepy. Wait, am I supposed to dig her out? Crap, I didn't sign up for this. Maybe I'm at the wrong gravesite?

I look up to the Man in the Moon, and my fears are confirmed when he shines a slim beam of light down on the spot where she's buried.

"Seriously?" I say.

The moon, only a crescent tonight, is shaped like a taunting smile. Even more eerily, I hear muffled screams coming from the ground. The Man's woken her up.

It occurs to me that not everyone is fortunate enough to die in water, where you could simply swim up to the surface to be free. I'm a little claustrophobic myself, but I can't imagine how scary it'd be to be buried alive.

I leave the Book and run to the grave. If I'm gonna be Jack the grave-digger tonight, I'm gonna make it fast.

A few taps of my staff and a thin sheet of ice covers the square of ground, though I can feel that it runs deeper than it looks. I will the ice to crumble and melt, until I catch a glimpse of the white coffin buried six feet under.

"Can anyone hear me? I'm still alive!" Her strangled screams are clearer now, mixed in with the sound of her fists pounding on the inside of the coffin.

And then I see some flashlights in the distance – probably some guards on the literal graveyard shift. Unless I want them to go crazy watching a grave dig itself, I've got to hurry.

"I know this is terrifying for you, but I need you to calm down," I say into the hole, as soothingly as possible, but I'm nervous myself. "I'm here to help."

Thankfully, she does calm down. I grit my teeth and jump in the hole, the half-melted ice making me slip a bit. I feel around for the hinges of the coffin, then freeze them brittle. Then I hold on to the sides of the lid and pull up. It takes a bit more effort than I'd like, but soon the hinges crack and I throw the damn thing out whole.

A young girl with long, black hair like a curtain sits up inside. Some of the water splashes onto her, making her shiver.

"Hey, it's gonna be all right," I say. "You're safe now."

"Th-Thank y-you," she stutters. Her burial clothes – a fancy but thin white dress – are half-soaked. She's probably freezing, so I take off my hoodie and give it to her to put on. I wish her family buried her with some shoes, too, but it looks like we're both gonna be barefoot tonight.

"A-Are you all right in just an undershirt?" she asks, pulling the blue hoodie over her head. Thankfully the frost near the neck thawed out as soon as I let go of it.

"The cold doesn't bother me," I say with a smile. "Now come on, grab onto me. We need to get you out of here." I hear the suspicious voices of the guards getting closer.

"Thank you," she repeats, holding onto my arm. "But how? We're six feet under."

I grin and put my arm around her shoulder, using my other hand to tap my staff on the ground. A column of ice propels us up and out, but I forget to keep my grip on her. I conjure a pile of snow to cushion her landing, but I wince a bit when I hear the _thud_.

At least she recovers quickly. "What in the – how did you do that?" she asks, standing up and wiping the snow off her shoulders.

"No time to explain. We need to get out of here before someone sees your dug-up grave," I say. She takes a look at the spot where she was buried, and she looks like she needs to throw up.

"I-I was buried...? Did I die? Am I a zombie?"

"Yes, temporarily, no," I say, willing the pile of snow into the open grave. I hope it looks normal when it melts. "Actually, wait, maybe you _are_ a zombie. The Zombie Guardian – that'd be pretty awesome."

The look on her face tells me she's just that much closer to vomiting.

That's when I see the guards turning the corner. I'm not sure if they can see this girl, but I'm not taking any chances.

"Hey, I was just kidding, okay? I know you're confused, but I promise I'll explain everything soon. By the way, I'm Jack Frost, Guardian of Fun and prankster extraordinaire."

I grab her arms and guide their hold around my waist, floating up on the next gust of wind.

I catch the Book on the hook of my staff just as we touch off, and then we're out of there before the guards can wonder they saw a grave filled with snow.

* * *

"Hey, are you okay back there?" I ask, mostly to break the silence.

We've been flying for ten minutes now, and I have to say it's a bit awkward circling fifty feet above a city skyline with a stranger hugging you from behind, hanging on for dear life. She doesn't choke me like North, though. It's strangely comforting to feel something warm nearby, for once.

"Yeah," she says, weirdly unfazed. I thought she might be freaked out by all this, but she's calmed down completely since we left the graveyard. "This is incredible, flying like this. Everything looks so beautiful from up here."

I have to agree with her. Flying is one of my favorite things, and only now do I realize I might've been taking it for granted. "It really is."

I spot a decent roof to land on: clean, not too low to catch the view, and most importantly, deserted. I'm very picky about my rooftops.

I let her down gently, and she leans on the railing to look at the city. I float beside her, putting down the Book but keeping the staff. Ever since Pitch broke it, I've always kept it close.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Anina," she says, facing me. I've never heard a name like that before, but I like it.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Anina. Now's the time to ask."

She hesitates. "You said your name is Jack Frost? Like the legend?"

"You've heard of me?"

She hesitates again, but then her next words come gushing out so fast I almost can't decipher them. "In story books and fairy tales. To be honest, I never believed any of it, until tonight. All I remember was that I was in darkness, like I was sleeping... And then this voice – he called himself the Man in the Moon – told me that I was supposed to be a Guardian. I don't even know what that is, but he said that these childhood legends – you, Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Sandman – are Guardians, not to mention real, living beings."

To my surprise, she pokes me in the arm. The few people who've touched me flinched when they felt my cold skin, but she simply stares in awe, like a kid figuring out a new gadget.

"Yeah, I'm real," I laugh. "Though only the children who believe in me can see me."

She smiles a bit, but then she leans back on the railing and continues. "I was so scared, because I couldn't remember anything about myself – not even my name – until he told me. And I wanted to know so much more, but then I woke up, and I was in the coffin."

I can hear the fear in her voice, and it reminds me of how I felt in those first few moments in the dark water. "Are you still scared?" I ask.

"Strangely, no. Everything I've learned in my life tells me that none of this is possible. Realistically, I should be checking into a psycho ward right now, but I'm so calm about it inside. It's so hard to explain – it's like my brain's rejecting the fact that you can fly and conjure snow, but my instinct is telling me that things are as they should be." She pauses before her last sentence. "It's like I was meant for this my whole life."

"That's the same as I felt, when I was first chosen," I say.

A bit of the unease drains out of her eyes. It's then that I notice that her waist-length hair and eyes are the same shade of true black, a color so pure and dark that I know it can't be human. I touch my own hair, the exact opposite hue but just as unnatural.

"Are you an albino or something?" she says with a small smile. "You're pale as a ghost and you have the hair of an old man."

"You're pretty pale yourself," I say. In fact, she might even be paler than me.

"What, are you kidding? I have brown skin, I remember that much."

Then it hits me. The Man in the Moon changed her appearance, like he did mine, and it's been too dark for her to get a good look at herself.

I find a dent in the roof, then freeze it over. She crouches down to see what I'm doing just as I wipe it off until it's smooth enough for her to see her reflection.

"Oh..." she says. She turns around and examines herself, checking her actual arms and hands to make sure. "My hair was only half this length before! And not as dark. And my eyes – you can't even tell the difference between the pupil and the iris now."

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask.

"No, it's not bad. Just... different," she says, pensive.

"I myself used to have brown hair and eyes, and, uh... _healthier_-looking skin. But I've grown to like the new look."

She looks at my face as if I said I used to have three eyes.

"Yeah, it suits you," she says finally.

"Thanks."

"I mean, it suits you because you're a magical winter ghost thingy," she says with a laugh.

"Excuse you," I say with a huff. "I am one hundred percent human. Well, except that I'm immortal and have badass powers over ice and snow." I flick my finger, creating a snowflake for emphasis.

"Yes, snowflakes are very badass," she laughs. It's a quiet, pleasant sound. It occurs to me that her voice sounds like something very familiar – kind of comforting, really. Soothing.

"Oh, I forgot! What are your powers?" I ask.

"_My_ powers?" she frowns.

"When the Man in the Moon chose the Guardians, he gave each of us some sort of gift. I remember dancing around like an idiot and freezing everything around me when I found out how to work mine," I laugh. Good times.

"I-I don't know." She seems genuinely worried. I know that look: _What if I'm different? What if I can't do what you do?_

"Hey, don't worry about it. They'll come eventually. Sometimes they're not as straightforward as conjuring snow and stuff. You could be more like North – I mean, Santa. You could have a big heart full of Wonder, enough to share with every kid on Earth."

"But I don't drive a magic sleigh or work with elves."

"Yetis," I chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing. My point is, all the powers of a Guardian stem from their center."

"Center?"

"A Guardian's center is the single most important thing that they represent, and they protect that same trait in children. Mine is Fun," I say, twirling my staff and floating around her.

"How am I supposed to find mine?"

For a moment, I'm back in North's workshop, and he's showing me his matryoshka dolls with all the verve of a true Guardian of Wonder. Looking back, if he hadn't done that, I wouldn't be half the guy I am today. And that makes me realize something:

Anina reminds me so much of me, ten years ago. And I owe it to North and the others to teach her everything about what being a Guardian means, new threat or no new threat.

"That's what I'm here for," I say. "I've been assigned to be your Guardian mentor. To train you and help you find your center." I poke her shoulder with my staff and grin at her baffled expression.

"The Guardian of _Fun_, a mentor? How are we gonna get anything done?" she laughs.

"I know, that's exactly how I feel!" I say. Just because I'm really willing to train her now doesn't mean I have to let her know it. "All I know is that there's trouble around, so the Man in the Moon needs a new Guardian – that's you – and he put me on babysitting duty."

"Babysitting? You don't look any older than me," she raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, I am. I'm immortal. But by no means am I a boring adult; immortality only means I'm gonna be living like teen forever," I grin.

"So you _are_ an old man," she says. "Immortal... how old are you exactly?"

Suddenly I'm a bit age-conscious. Before her, I was the youngest Guardian by several centuries. "Three hundred and twenty-seven. But I was made immortal at seventeen, so technically, now I'll never be legal."

She laughs again, but then her forehead creases. "I don't know how old I am."

"Seventeen," I say, before I can remember how I knew that. "I checked the dates on your tombstone."

"Thank you for telling me that. I feel like I lost everything I used to know – when I woke up, I wasn't even sure if I had a life before this one."

"I had that same problem," I say, with a wry smile. "I went without my memories for three hundred years, until the other Guardians helped me get them back."

"I can get my memories back?" Her face lights up, and only then do I get a good look at it. She has no harsh angles or worry lines, only soft features and a dimpled smile.

"Only the important ones. But once you get those, the rest of them come back to you naturally. I myself still have bits and pieces of my old life coming back to me." Like the one during her funeral.

"Wait, I must've had a family! And friends and talents and hobbies and everything..."

"Of course. And, more importantly, you can figure out how you died and why. I died saving my sister from falling into frigid water, and that's why I became a Guardian. Your memories can help you realize your purpose. Maybe even find your center."

There's another thing about Anina that reminds me of myself: eagerness. "So where do I get my memories back?"

I grin. "At the Tooth Palace, of course."


End file.
